One Thing I've Learned: January 2012

Monday, January 30, 2012

{10 Days of Proverbs 31} Worship, not Worry

"She is clothed with strength and dignity..." Proverbs 31:25(a)

I wake up early this morning, worried about everything I've got to get done in the next month. On top of a huge To Do list, I'm battling a cold that's promising to get worse before it gets better.

Then I remember: "You didn't get up to worry; you got up to worship!"

Oh yeah. I grab my Bible, iPod, and journal. I settle in on the couch.

Now what?

Instantly, I'm ashamed for asking. How can I not know what to do next? I was raised in a Christian home, attended church weekly, spent 16 years attending Christian schools, and have taught for two decades in Christian schools.

Yet I am wondering: Exactly what is worship?

I can identify worship when I see it happening elsewhere: The praise and worship service. Worship through prayer. The entire congregation standing in worship.

But what is worship right now? Here in my quiet living room? As I sit alone?

Oh, I could go all English-teachery and pull out Webster:

wor-ship.
noun
1. reverent honor and homage paid to god or a sacred personage.
2. formal or ceremonious rendering of such honor and homage.
3. adoring reverence or regard;
verb
1. to render religious reverence and homage, as to a deity.
2. to attend services of divine worship.
3. to feel an adoring reverence or regard.

I'm not feeling much other than discomfort and foolishness right about now. I'm starting to realize how much of a "social worshipper" I am. I love being part of a worshipping group -- especially at a women's retreat -- our individual voices blended (and mine well masked!) in song.

Synergy and collaboration are my two favorite words; I love doing things together. I truly hate doing things alone. Sure, I could start singing a favorite praise song, but I loathe my voice. It's weak. Off-key. Powerless. It doesn't feel like real worship unless there's serious volume, harmony, talent.

I could raise one or both hands, but how weird is that? It's taken me years to shake off my your-hands-belong-at-your-sides conservative upbringing. For the longest time, I'd only allow one brave hand to tentatively raise while the other remained obediently plastered to my side. Now, I love throwing myself into worship with both hands raised fully in praise. But it only feels "right" in a group with others who are doing the same. Raise one or both hands, right here? right now? alone?

(I am so not even touching "dancing before the Lord"!)

But I know that I, of all people, need physical acts of worship. I may be twenty years past the death-trap of Ed (eating disorder), but I can still snap instantly into old habits of disconnecting from my body and retreating into my head, especially when I'm feeling weak or worried.

So, I look up the root words of "worship." (Yes, I know I'm stalling. Anything to stay in the comfort zone of my brain!) Interestingly enough, it's made up of the words "worth" and "-ship." The "-ship" part simply means "state of being." And a search for "Worth" brings up merit. excellence. importance. value.

Worship demonstrates what I value.

Oh, I'll tell you with my words that I don't value worrying! But the truth shows up in my actions. I woke up early because I'm so worried about everything I've got to get done. And now I've spent the last thirty minutes worrying about worship!

From a time and energy investment perspective, worry is the most valuable thing in my life. My "almighty" To Do list is my "god," and worry is my ritual for worshipping it.

I'm appalled. I can't say I'm shocked; I've only re-discovered how much of an achievement-focused Choleric zealot I really am a few hundred times in my life. But I've not seen it in this light.

Doing is my "god," and worry is my worship. This is an "ah-HA!" of the most disturbing kind.

I initially thought "Worship, not Worry" was nothing more than a cute alliterative catch phrase. Now I realize it's a baby step in a journey. Yes, I'm appalled. But I'm also in awe. Awed that the One of ultimate value follows me wherever my rationalizing mind wanders. Awed that He values me -- even when I'm busy worshipping another "god" -- enough to pursue and woo me.

I want my "worth-ship" to come down not to what I value but Who values me. And this is key to becoming a woman who is "clothed with strength and dignity", for the origin of the word "dignity" is none other than worth.

Dignity and worship go hand-in-hand.(Which makes so much sense. When am I the least dignified? When I am the most worried!)

I still don't know the "right" answer to my question: Exactly what is worship?

But I feel a song coming on. And I think that rather than worrying about how I'll sound, I'll simply worship.

I'd suggest you plug your ears, but you're not here--whew!

Anyhow, this isn't about you.
It isn't even about me.
This is about worship
and dignity.

It's about the One
who provides Refuge
and Strength
to you and to me.

* * * * *

13 Bloggers, 13 topics, 1 Great God:

Contributing to Family Income / 2 Better Than 1

The Fear of the Lord / Satisfied by Love

Using Time Wisely / Blessed Beyond Measure

Taking Care of Needy / Shadow Wonder

Using Money Wisely / Jennifer Sikora

Keeping an Eye on Home / Just a Glimpse

She can Laugh at the Days Ahead / faith filled food for moms

Clothed in Strength and Dignity / One thing I’ve Learned

Taking Care of Others/ 2 savvy gals

Being Creative / A Patchwork Mommy

Bringing Variety to Family / Karen Dawkins

Extending your Hand to the Poor / Women’s Fellowship House

Organization / Teaching What is Good

Friday, January 27, 2012

{10 Days of Proverbs 31} Needed: a New Heart

"She is clothed with strength and dignity..." Proverbs 31:25(a)

My search for strength
has left me
with an
inflexible
brittle
spirit.

My quest for dignity
has taken me deep
into condescension
and
isolation.

I've held a death grip on the
illusion of control–
holding on
with everything
within me–
yet I
find myself
empty
yet again.

I'm so far past
the breaking point
that I have
nothing
left to lose.

"And I will give you a new heart, and I will put a new spirit in you. I will take out your stony, stubborn heart and give you a tender, responsive heart." Ezekiel 36:26 (NLT)

* * * * *

Thursday, January 26, 2012

{10 Days of Proverbs 31} My Heart May Fail, BUT...

"She is clothed with strength and dignity..." Proverbs 31:25(a)

A year ago, wrestling with conflicting emotions over my mother's Alzheimers, I wrote

Letting Go

After bedtime, in the dark
gripping the edge of my crib
calling, calling, calling out
as I so often did:

“Mowie!
I want you!
I need you!”

Silence, looming silence,
mocks me in reply.
I raise my voice, bravely
mustering yet another try:

“Mowie!
I want you!
 I need you!”

Hours later (so it feels)
exhausted by my fears
I let go, sit down,
find my blankie,
dissolving into tears.

* * * * *

Her frail unsteady body
barracades the door.
Voice breaking, eyes glistening
she pleads with me once more:

“I don’t want to let you go!”

I clench my jaw, soothe my voice
promise to come again.
Praying that when I return
she’ll remember who I am.

* * * * *

I’m driving into darkness
helpless, lost, and small
that cried-out voice still echoing
her sad, scared, lonely call:

“Mowie!
I want you!
I need you!”

I don’t want to let you go.

Silence, brooding silence
echoes in reply.
I’ve lived so long without you
but still can’t say good bye.

Four months ago was my first visit home during which my mother did not recognize me. (After which I wrote "Unknown but Loved".)

As I shared in my Day 1 post, I'm new to grief. I find myself alternately overwhelmed by it and running as fast as I can from it.

So today, I am thankful that I do not face any of this on my own. I am thankful that although “My flesh and my heart may fail...God is the strength of my heart and my portion forever.” Psalm 73:26

* * * * *

Wednesday, January 25, 2012

{10 Days of Proverbs 31} Take It or Weakness

"She is clothed with strength and dignity..." Proverbs 31:25(a)

"Do you want to get well?"

It's not a difficult question. It doesn't require a complex reply. In fact, one word will suffice.

So how come the paralytic by the pool of Bethesda responded to Jesus' question with 30 words, when one would have been enough?

"I have no one...while I am trying...someone else..."

Oh, do I ever recognize these words! When I get on a "poor me" kick, it's all about wishing others would do something for me, focusing on my weakness, and comparing myself unfavorably with others.

Offering His strength, Jesus asks me the same question: "Cheri, do you want to get well?"

And I blather, "Sir, I have so much grading to get done. My readers didn't show up last week, so I'm two weeks behind and midterms are due next week!"

He asks, "Cheri, do you want to get well?"

And I explain, "Sir, I've tried to make friends and get involved, but it never lasts."

He asks, "Cheri, do want to get well?"

And I defend, "Sir, nobody in the house understands me. I'm the only female, now that Annemarie's away at college. Daniel just don't 'get' me!"

And on it goes.

Jesus never stops asking, "Cheri, do you want to get well?" He never stops offering His strength.

At some point, I get tired of my pity party; after all, no guests show up, and there are no gifts. And I realize that Jesus isn't asking an essay question! It's a simple yes-or-no.

As I meditate on this story in John 5:1-15, I realize why I babble endlessly rather than checking "yes."

I'll have to take action.

I'll have to trust Him for strength. I'll have to pick up my mat and walk. Which is, of course, what I want...right?

I mean, who would rather live in weakness, complaining "I have no one...while I am trying...someone else..."?

His question again: "Do you want to get well?"

His standing offer: omnipotent strength.

My daily, hourly, moment-by-moment choice: take it...or weakness.

* * * * *

Tuesday, January 24, 2012

{10 Days of Proverbs 31} Still the Hunger

"She is clothed with strength and dignity..." Proverbs 31:25(a)

I have an insatiable appetite.

As a Sanguine, I long for attention and approval. I can speak for an hour to a room full of amazing women, each gifting me with her time and attention.

Afterward, I can have a crowd around me, praising my message, asking great questions, engaging in discussion. I receive all I could possibly want and more.

And still, the hunger.

As a Choleric, I desire achievement. My recent To Do list started out five pages long (12 point type, single spaced) and grew from there. I ran every errand on the list. The garage got gutted. The Murano repaired. The dog vetted. Assorted adults and teens fed high quality rations several times daily. And I even performed the impossible: I found a new teaching outfit in my size. I accomplished all I could possibly want and more.

And still, the hunger.

As a human, I seek justice. When I've been misunderstood, I want the chance to explain...and explain and explain until there's no chance of confusion. When I've been disrespected, I want an apology...and a promise of reformation. When I've been neglected (and rejected), I want to be included...and given equal status.

Yet even when I feel understood, respected, and accepted...

...still, the hunger.

"The hunger" often manifests as physical, leading me to the kitchen in search of high-carb, high-sugar "food" to ease my discomfort.

Cookies. Popcorn. Ice cream.

And still, the hunger.

I also use relationships and conversations to fill the void.

Popcorn. People. Errands. Explanations. Ice cream. I'm seen. I've been. I mean.

I am never full. Always running. On empty.

This month, I've tried -- mostly unsuccessfully -- to meditate on Psalm 16 and 17. I've came to quiet time with an agenda and a time limit. As the weeks have gotten busier and more full of surprises (mostly of the unpleasant variety!), I've had no "quiet" and very little "time."

Exhausted from trying to live on my own "strength", I finally seek Refuge. And I am, once again, amazed by the Word who has been awaiting me all along:

"I call on you, Oh God, for you will answer me; give ear to me and hear my prayer," (verse 6) speaks to my Sanguine hunger to be heard and affirmed.

"Show the wonder of your great love, you who save by your right hand" (verse 7a) . . . "Keep me as the apple of your eye, hide me in the shadow of your sings" (verse 8) . . . "Rise up, O Lord, confront [my mortal enemies], bring them down; rescue me" (verse 13a) speaks to my Choleric hunger for action.

"May my vindication come from you; may your eyes see what is right" (verse 2) speaks to my human hunger for truth.

And the words of life meant for me on this very day:

"I will see your face; when I awake, I will be satisfied with seeing your likeness." (verse 15b)

(My insatiable appetite can be satisfied?)

For "You still the hunger of those you cherish." (verse 14b)

Still the hunger.

I will be satisfied!

* * * * *

Monday, January 23, 2012

{10 Days of Proverbs 31} Too Many Wrongs Don't Make Rude Right

"She is clothed with strength and dignity..." Proverbs 31:25(a)

I’m blowing it.

Exiting my mouth are the wrong words. Said in the wrong tone. Spoken with the wrong attitude.

I’m blowing it. Big time.

I’m reacting to someone less than half my age with neither strength nor dignity.

Quite the opposite, actually. My words started at petty, declined to self-righteous, and are now careening down to face-saving.

I’m ignoring Fred Jones’ most basic rule of relating to students: When in doubt, say nothing.

I’m blowing it. Again.

Why, after almost 45 years, am I doing this, yet again? Babbling words I haven’t pondered, that I don’t even mean, but can not seem to stop myself from verbalizing?

Why can’t I just think my reactions, on the inside, rather than making them so unflatteringly, humiliatingly, mortifyingly public?

I should have seen it coming. All my pet triggers were aligning against me: stress + confusion + the sense that I’m being threatened, mocked, or disrespected.

I should have paused to collect my thoughts. To reflect. To check my perceptions. To receive alternate viewpoints.

But, no, my mouth opens. And words that should stay in the privacy of my own mind spill out in real time for an audience.

At a target.

In this case, it's a student, but it could just as easily be my husband or children.

Over at the M.O.M. Initiative, Teri Lynne Underwood opens her blog post "Are You a Polite Parent?" with this question:

“What if submission begins with simply being polite?”

Oh, I’d like to consider myself a polite parent, teacher, and spouse.

But at times like this – when I’m in “fire! ready, aim” mode – I know I am anything but. I am not “clothed in strength and dignity.” Instead of laughing at the future, I am a laughingstock.

When I'm rude like this, I exhibit a "me-first" attitude, acting as if I am "god."

Oh, to learn, once and for all, the lesson of Psalm 46:10(a), which does not say, “React immediately and stand up for yourself!” nor does it say, “Open your mouth and demolish the enemy!”

In the NIV, Psalm 46:10(a) says,"Be still and know that I am God."

Other translations word it, "Cease striving and know that I am God"(NAS) and "Let go [of your concerns]! Then you will know that I am God." (GOD'S WORD)

Be still = to let fall...to be relaxed...not making an effort...not putting forth exertion...being without anxiety.

I say I want to be relaxed. Exertion-free. Without anxiety.

Yet when prime opportunities arise for me to be still, to cease striving, to let go, I barrel forward at breakneck speed to take out my opponent.

I need a new target.

A new goal. An entirely different paradigm, actually: One in which the pause to be polite becomes my "knee-jerk" reaction.

I need to practice the pause. I need to create safe space for reflection.

Politeness – responding to people with strength and dignity – must become more important than my so-called "rightness."

Today, may I practice politeness and, in so doing, know that You are God...my only true Strength.

* * * * *

Friday, January 20, 2012

{10 Days of Proverbs 31} Clothing Choices

"She is clothed with strength and dignity..." Proverbs 31:25(a)

On Wednesday, Kate @Teaching What Is Good blessed me with this insightful comment:

As I was reading your post the idea stuck in my head that she is "clothed" with strength and dignity.

It is not something that she IS, it is a garment that God gives her to wear.

Intrigued, I did a scripture search for "clothed."

In Genesis 3:21, we find the first incident of humans being clothed: "The LORD God made garments of skin for Adam and his wife and clothed them."

Notice who does the initial clothe-ing: God does.

When I accept His clothe-ing, I am clothed with salvation (2 Chronicles 6:41), joy (Psalm 30:11), gladness (Psalm 65:12), righteousness (Psalm 132:9), strength and dignity (Proverbs 31:25), and power from on high (Luke 24:49).

Best of all, I am clothed with Christ (Galatians 3:26-28)!

In Revelation 16:15 comes the warning, “Look, I come like a thief! Blessed is the one who stays awake and remains clothed, so as not to go naked and be shamefully exposed.”

Notice who can remove His clothe-ing: I can.

When I remove His clothe-ing, I am clothed in shame (Job 8:22), disgrace (Psalm 109:29), and terror (Ezekiel 7:18).

David describes shame with an especially tactile simile: "wrapped up in shame as in a cloak." (Psalm 109:29)

I choose my clothe-ing.

Wrapped up in myself.

Or wrapped up in Him.

* * * * *

Thursday, January 19, 2012

{10 Days of Proverbs 31) Fertilize or Fester?

"She is clothed with strength and dignity..." Proverbs 31:25(a)

Yesterday, I wrote:
I'm going to stop trying so incredibly hard to be strong.

"I will say of the LORD, 'He is my refuge and my fortress, my God, in whom I trust.' He will cover you with his feathers, and under his wings you will find refuge..." Psalm 91:2&4(a)

I'm going to seek Refuge. Which is, paradoxically, the only place to find Strength.

Today, I realize that the decision to stop running and start seeking Refuge means that the thing I've been running from now has time to catch up with me.

And what I've been running from, what I've been striving for strength to avoid, is grief.

My friend Georgia Shaffer, in Taking Out Your Emotional Trash writes

Whether it takes months or years, our grief decomposes into rich nourishing soil for a new life.

Two questions come to mind for me:

#1) What does a healthy grief process look and sound and feel like?

I'm a rookie when it comes to grief; I have little experience and no skill. My brother and I agree that we weren't taught how to deal with "negative" emotions while growing up.

We now spend our days immersed in other people's emotions; he's a therapist, and I'm an educator. But we struggle to correctly identify even the most basic of our own feelings. (Recognizing "I feel sad right now" is a major victory!)

When I was five, our maternal grandfather died suddenly of a heart attack. During my sixth grade year, our family dog was struck and killed by a car. Three weeks into my first year of teaching, our maternal grandma passed away. Over the next several years, our father's mother succumbed slowly to the ravages of Alzheimer's Disease.

I remember what we did for each of these events. We went through the appropriate motions. And then we moved on. There was no mentoring in dealing with the aftermath of loss.

Now, each time I visit my parents, my mother's Alzheimer's Disease is worse and my father looks frailer. I am daily moving closer to the two greatest losses of my life. My children will learn from me how to mourn the loss of their beloved Nana and Papa. How will I model a process for which I have so little experience and no skill?

#2) When I fail to grieve, what happens instead?

My losses have not led to grief (and thus, nor to its decomposition "into rich nourishing soil for a new life.")

Instead, my losses have evoked bitterness. And over time, bitterness festers. Putrefies. Stagnates.

Grief has an active ebb and flow; it keeps moving and eventually breaks all the way down.

But as I stew in bitterness, it multiplies. Depression develops into a top scum, a "protective" barrier. Hostility takes root beneath. Vengeance breeds in the depths. Sarcasm bubbles up. A new life will never grow in this environment.

Yet I desire the "new life" to which Georgia refers! So, I've been experimenting with grief lately.

I've been reading about loss...instead of avoiding it. Journaling about sadness throughout my life...instead of dismissing it with sarcasm. Writing prayer poems that allow me to linger inside sorrowful moments...instead of pretending that "going through the motions" ever was–or ever will be–enough to help me move on.

I still have very little experience and hardly any skill with grief. But I'm making progress, which is a huge improvement over standing still, stewing in the brackish waters of bitterness.

Grief, I'm finding, has an ebb and flow much like the ocean. Sometimes, without warning, it overwhelms me and pulls me under. I lose control–or at least the illusion of control!–and panic. What if I never get back up for air?

Recently, I lingered at Starbucks to do some "lite" prayer journaling; instead, I wept through the birth of a new poem. Several waves of sadness were so strong, I began to panic: What if I stop breathing? Should I run for the car? Do I need psychiatric help?

But as I reached the poem's end, the emotions had run their course. I felt an unaccustomed calm.

As I re-read the images and metaphors and juxtapositions I'd used to explore an old sorrow, I knew that this was no mere "going through the motions."

I still felt sad. But I also felt hope, for I'd come to new understandings. Experienced new insights. Discovered new perspectives I'd not seen when my eyes were so firmly fixed inward, bent solely on my own bitterness.

This was renewal.

One step out of the pond of bitterness.

One step toward a new life.

A new life in which running is replaced by Refuge.

In which I declare, even through tears, "I love you, Lord, my strength." Psalm 18:1

* * * * *

Wednesday, January 18, 2012

{10 Days of Proverbs 31} Stop Seeking Strength

"She is clothed with strength and dignity..." Proverbs 31:25(a)

I'm simultaneously losing my mother to Alzheimer's and launching my soon-to-be 21-year-old daughter into adulthood.

I'm struggling with both.

C.S. Lewis writes, "No one ever told me that grief felt so like fear." I so get what he means.

And I'm disappointed in myself for being such a cry-baby and scaredy-cat.

You see, I'd hoped that by mid-life, I'd be a shining example of how to handle these necessary losses with the "strength and dignity" of the legendary Proverbs 31 woman.

Most days, though, I'm more like a poster girl for How Not to _____ (fill in the blank with "Parent" or "Teach" or "Be a Supportive Helpmeet" or "Be a Good Daughter".)

I feel like the weak link at work and at home. I'm disappointed by my own weakness, at a time when so many need me to be strong.

One of my students recently shared his courageous testimony about losing his mother to cancer when he was in elementary school. He stood tall and strong at the podium, voice steady, words powerful, message gripping.

I wept.

In fact, I don't think I've stopped weeping -- inwardly, at least -- and that was more than a month ago.

Psalm 46:1 says "God is our refuge and strength, an ever-present help in trouble."

The order is vital: first refuge.
Then strength.

I get it backwards.

In my Choleric frenzy for action, I bargain with God to borrow a bit more strength. And I miss what I need most.

I miss the Refuge.

I read countless books about parenting young adults and supporting aging parents.

But I miss the Refuge.

I go to women's group and church potluck and staff meeting, seeking friendship and comfort.

And I still miss The Refuge.

The lyrics to Precious Lord–"I am tired, I am weak, and I am worn"–so describe me right about now.

Trying to do the "strength" thing on my own isn't working. The stronger I try to be, the weaker I seem to get.

So today, I'm going to stop trying so incredibly hard to be strong.

"I will say of the LORD, 'He is my refuge and my fortress, my God, in whom I trust.' He will cover you with his feathers, and under his wings you will find refuge..." Psalm 91:2&4(a)

Today, I'm going to seek Refuge.

Which is, paradoxically, the only place to find Strength.

* * * * *

Pages

Monday, January 30, 2012

Friday, January 27, 2012

Thursday, January 26, 2012

Wednesday, January 25, 2012

Tuesday, January 24, 2012

Monday, January 23, 2012

Friday, January 20, 2012

Thursday, January 19, 2012

Wednesday, January 18, 2012